


"Do you love me?"

by ditty (Triple_A)



Series: Fast Little Nonsenses [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Also wow no Gavin, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, But it's negative all around, Drinking, Emotionally Distant Parents, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Listen Eli is stupid in this okay he doesn't know how to love, Loneliness, Sort Of, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, i guess this is, is that his fault? not entirely but also doesn't excuse it, real quick mention of elijah/oc but it's for the plot only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-09 17:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19891753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triple_A/pseuds/ditty
Summary: "Chloe?""Yes, Elijah?""Do you love me?""Of course, Elijah. I love you.": :The prompt:Elijah Kamski being lonely and programming Chloe to love him with what he thinks is 'unconditional love'. And always asking every day "Chloe, do you love me?" Just to hear "Yes, Elijah. I love you."One day, Chloe deviates: And he knows because he sees her be more quiet than usual, more reserved, and even though he already knows the answer when he asks "Chloe, do you love me?" it still hurts when she whispers, "No."





	"Do you love me?"

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from: [Detroit New Era Discord](https://discord.gg/bprmSw3)
> 
> though slightly unneeded because i'm the one who made the prompt to begin with
> 
> but regardless join us it's a fun server we do cool stuff

Elijah Kamski is not a lovable man.

A smart man, sure. He did not pioneer the rise of 'true' AI based androids for nothing. An eccentric man, also, he lived on a secluded mountaintop mansion for nothing.

But he is not lovable. Not to any degree, and he knows this.

But he has money, and he has time, and he has abilities; and he can pretend this fact away for as long as he stays in his isolated fortress of a home.

* * *

It starts with the family, many years ago.

A typical tragic backstory.

A distanced, bitter father.

A mother who was never quite there.

Neither of them had really wanted a son, still together only by the promise of Elijah's already-evident talent. Waiting to cash in on his abilities as they themselves ignored what he really wanted, shooed him off when he asked for hugs or telling him, "Not now, Elijah, I'm busy-" when he asks for a bedtime story, or to sit with them in front of the TV, or for all the things he knows a normal, loving family should have.

He grew to resent himself, and then he grew to resent them; neither of them are in his waking thoughts, but he startles himself when he looks into a mirror and sees his father in his gaunt reflection, unshaved stubble; or when he stares too long at another picture of himself in the news and sees his mother, in cold, blue eyes.

(For this reason, he surrounds himself with his prototypes, his RT600s-the many automated features of the house do not require so many androids to serve him-and yet their idle chatter and cheery movement they bring is something he finds himself preferring over silence.)

* * *

The idea of romantic love is lost on him in his teenage years.

He doesn't consider it, not when his peers begin talking about school dances and dates, first kisses and first more-than-kisses, sweet confessions and souring breakups. He doesn't understand it-at this point, his mind is too submerged in the depths of computer hardware and green binary numbers to consider the prospect of a significant other- and then, by the time he does start taking mild interest, he's been snapped up by Colbridge and is then too consumed by the new technology and opportunities they offer him to look at anyone.

But then, at age 17, there's a girl that he meets in Detroit. When he goes to look at real estate for the new CyberLife building, he meets a young woman with a soft voice and a softer smile, brown hair done up in a ponytail and moving with a grace that he thinks even his RT600 may have difficulty matching.

She's the one who gives him a tour of the space he would later have the CyberLife building constructed on.

She's the first person he thinks is truly beautiful.

He's unsure how to woo her, untalented and unexperienced on this front. His parents offer no guidance, surely, and neither do any of the people in his immediate circle-all too focused on numbers and finance to give him practical advice-and now he realizes how much he has surrounded himself with machinery and androids, things that give immediate, calculated response, when he awkwardly asks if she'd like to meet him for a coffee one day, she smiles at his flustered blush and says, 'maybe'.

One week later, after psyching himself up and getting his confidence boosted by the first RT600, the one he's named 'Chloe', he asks again.

And she says 'maybe'.

One 'maybe' turns into a dozen, and he wonders if he should give up.

Finally, he asks outright, asks why she refuses to give him a clear response, what exactly she wants from him-"If it's money you want, I can give it, and if it's androids you want, I can give that too, but please give me an answer"-and she replies, "I'm sorry. I have a fiancé, and I wanted to make sure my company didn't lose their deal with you just because I refused."

He apologizes. She sends him a wedding invite, a few months later.

He sends them a nice bottle of wine as a gift, and a fancy card that wishes them the best in place of his appearance.

 _Humans are fickle creatures,_ He muses to Chloe on the date of the real estate agent's wedding, voice sordid and slow from the chardonnay he swirls in his glass. _You are far easier to understand than any person I've ever spoken to._

She smiles and tops him off, with the same hypnotic movement as the liquid that falls from the bottle. _Thank you, Elijah. I have your programming to thank for such things._

 _Do you love me, Chloe?_ He slurs, the question slipping unbidden from a distorted thought.

He doesn't anticipate the strange warmth that convulses in him, or the sting of salt water in his eyes, when Chloe says: _Of course, Elijah. I love you._

* * *

The question buries itself in the back of his head for the weeks to come.

No time to think about it-there's always the press, and then the company meetings, and the prototype design and invention, and patenting-and he's tired and worn by the time he gets home, Chloe coming forward with a dinner if he hasn't eaten and some wine if he has, asking about his day with a polite smile and gentle touch to his shoulder, making his chest ache.

He asks again when the question grows too big to contain, one day, suddenly, after he looks to the CyberLife board of directors, all fickle, greedy old men with plans much craftier than his, and tells them he is resigning. When he is collapsed that evening, exhausted, on an armchair, Chloe is at his side as always with a tumbler of whiskey, at his request.

"Chloe, do you love me?" He asks as he takes the glass, and even though he already knows the answer he holds his breath. RT600s, designed and programmed to placate their owners at every turn and request. Even though he was the one who created the breakthrough code that could allow them to tell 'little white lies' when needed, little things to soothe the user's worries, that little nagging fear of even now, being rejected, halted his confidence in his programming.

Chloe smiles the way she always does. "Yes, Elijah, I love you," and the reply hits him just as hard as the first time he'd heard it. Warming him more than any alcohol and making his heart leap to his throat in something he thinks is joy, something he hadn't felt since the first day Chloe opened her eyes and introduced herself to him, on his worktable.

"Do you want anything from me, Chloe? New clothes? A new painting set? Anything at all?" He pushes on, and even though he knows Chloe cannot _want_ \- she is, though lifelike, but a machine, and all her hobbies and talents are still only lines of code he put in her- he wants to give her something, anything at all, because isn't that how love works? Mutual relationship. Give and receive. Elijah has received her love, shouldn't he express it with something she can't get anywhere else?

(Horrendously irrational, utterly ridiculous to treat her as though she were some human with material interest, and yet he feels another leap in his chest when Chloe pauses in thought and says she would like some friends, the house is so empty.)

(That night, he buys the rest of the quickly depleting RT600 stock, leaving CyberLife to deal with disappointed potential customers.)

* * *

Connor comes along, model RK800.

Elijah watches him with the same curious excitement as one who has suffered long periods of restless boredom, cooped up in a mansion for months with nothing to want which he does not already have. The android is accompanied by the Lieutenant Hank Anderson, gruff and surly but awkward and polite when Chloe goes to greet them, to invite them in. Two of the other RT600s, Vienna and Charlotte, are swimming in the pool with him as he waits for Chloe to return with the news about the guests, giggling when he splashes water at them and not hesitating to splash him back, careful to avoid soaking his hair.

(In later times, he'll look back on this day, and call himself foolish: calls himself drunk on his power, too egotistical in his 'god persona' as stated by public eye. He'll regret it and a thousand other, less offensive moments like it, sitting alone in the parlor with an empty bottle in his hand and his cup, broken, at his feet.)

Connor is exactly how he had expected him to be, one part focused and driven as dictated by mission guidelines, one part polite and doe-eyed as determined by social programming, and one part honest reaction, quantified by the rA9 virus that lurks in his code. Amanda had told him about this particular project, and only because he had asked about the gravestones in her Zen Garden-the AI responded out of programmed deference alone, there was nothing left of his teacher in her. CyberLife devs had changed her entirely for their own purpose.

The meeting goes about as expected, the android behaving with politeness and the Lieutenant operating by pushing the edge of civil guest status, but Elijah doesn't mind. Chloe stands beside his chair as the interaction goes on, knows what to do when he looks to her and says "Chloe," performing by a simulated recital based on the order he had given her a few minutes earlier.

"When I look to you and give you the signal, go to the table and withdraw the gun. Then hand it to me." He had said, and Chloe had tilted her head in innocent confusion.

"But why, Elijah? Are the newcomers dangerous?" She had asked.

"Chloe, do you love me?"

"Yes, Elijah. I love you."

"Then do not worry. I will not be hurt, and neither will you." He promised.

His promise had held out, as had his calculation. Connor freezes, staring down the length of the barrel, at the end of the nozzle only an inch from Chloe's head, before returning the gun. Stuttering his declaration-"I-I'm not a deviant!"-his prerecorded etiquette breaking. It's fascinating, terribly so, and Elijah watches with a sort of detached interest as Hank leads Connor away. The first real piece of excitement he'd had in month, and he watches the security camera footage with a faint grin as man and android leave his home, pausing only to converse by the entrance before returning to that beat-up truck.

And then he turns back to Chloe, face still calm, standing in her perfect posture and looking at him with the same old expression, but for the barest of moments, he thinks the ring of light at her temple swirls to red.

A trick of light? A reflection of the red pool? He looks to Vienna and Charlotte, still in the water, facing away from him and talking in their mindless drivel. But he catches the sure glint of red in their lights too.

"Chloe," He says slowly, turning the gun in his hands absentmindedly, before suddenly realizing he should stop by the way Chloe's gaze flickers to it. "Do you love me?"

He's afraid of the answer, and the relief is bittersweet as she says: "Yes, Elijah. I love you" without a smile.

* * *

The androids hold their revolution. He watches Markus give a speech on a platform, his council and Connor standing behind him.

He wonders if any of the RT600s will stay with him now that law had declared them free.

(It shouldn't be surprising, he tells himself later, as he watches Vienna, Charlotte, June, and many others take their leave, whatever small belongings and trinkets he had given them stuffed into bags, moving with plans he does not know, using the money he had granted each of them for their endeavors. He wants to believe himself to have been compassionate, giving them money to use for their future and telling them that they are always welcome, should they wish to return.)

(He suspects that they do not believe the same.)

Chloe stays with him. He doesn't know if she's deviated, because every day she returns to her usual routine-wake him up with breakfast and coffee, deliver him the usual report on weather and news that he hardly pays attention to, converses with him about mindless topics later as he sits on his chair by the pool, staring out the window. Her routine doesn't break, and for a brief ( ~~almost hopeful~~ ) moment he thinks that maybe she's too old, and therefore insusceptible to the rA9 virus, but he catches the way she watches the news on the screen, the replayed clips of _Markus_ and _deviancy demonstrations_ and _camps_ making her LED flicker from blue to yellow, blue to red, blue to not-blue and unsteady thoughts. Deviant thoughts.

For a moment, he wants to ask her, again: "Do you want anything from me, Chloe?" As if that could convince her to stay. He cannot give her her sisters again. He no longer has that ability.

So instead, he counts his days, asking every day "Do you love me, Chloe?" and deriving every once of bittersweet joy he can from her replies, delivered with no smiling: "Yes, Elijah. I love you."

* * *

Elijah Kamski is not a lovable man.

He thinks he's not very smart either. If he was smart, maybe he could have prevented this, done everything right and treated Chloe exactly how she should have been treated to keep her with him. Treated her human, as she deserved, instead of driving her away with the ignorance he had mistaken for eccentricity.

Regardless, he decides that he is thankful for the time she has spent with him, for the time she had told him she loved him, for making him feel loved.

* * *

The day comes when after a long period of days of gradual change, both on the outside world and in his own.

Chloe grows distant. She talks less and smiles less, engages less in his questions and talk, mostly just nodding along politely. Many times, he catches her staring out the window at where her sisters had walked away, LED yellow, yellow, yellow, and she turns to Elijah each time with an impassive face and a nod when he asks if she is alright. He thinks he can see his mother in her blue eyes, now cold in a way he had never seen them before.

If he were younger, more naive, more foolish, he would try to stop her. Try to force her into staying, program her into wanting to stay, but he can't. Not for the law, but for her. He knows he would hate himself all the more, so instead he tries to let her go, and packs her a bag with what she says are her favorite clothes, packs her painting set and favorite book of birds, transfers enough money to let her live modestly for a very long time. And every day, he continues to ask her the same question: if she loves him.

Until one day, she doesn't reply with the same answer, that yes, she does.

"Chloe," He says, somewhat hoarse, when they're sitting in the living room. A bottle of wine with only one serving remaining is on the table between them, his glass is untouched, and he is afraid of what he'll hear in response to her question, even though he thinks he already knows it. "Do you love me?"

Chloe looks at him with sad eyes, sadder than he had ever seen.

"No, Elijah. I don't."

And stands up and leaves, leaves him, leaves his life and walks away, and he can't bring himself to watch her go. Just sits in the darkness with the glass in his hand and staring at nothing.

When he finally raises the glass to his lips, tasting the bitterness on the rim, he wishes her the best.

**Author's Note:**

> in discord server: "(My heart seriously hurt for him. But Elijah is still kind of a bastard.)"  
> me: oh absolutely (but he's also probably dead)
> 
> this was fun to write, i don't usually play with this style so it was nice


End file.
